Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(81)

Holt noticed the other two Doms had the same smile he did. “I take it she’s cooking?”

“Oh, boy, is she cooking.” Yukio shook his head. “She was, like, all pissed-off that the hero in her book wants to kiss the girl.”

Vance blinked. “That’s bad?”

“She doesn’t want any gaggy kissing or anything. Ugh.” Carson gave a nod of agreement.

“She said if Tigre started any romance stuff, she’d geld him, even if he is the hero.” Yukio scowled. “Tigre should be allowed to kiss Laurent if he wants to.”

“I agree,” Holt said. “Gotta say, Tigre better make his moves carefully, or he’ll get his package crisped.” Holt grinned at Jake and clarified. “Josie writes paranormal fiction, and the potential girlfriend has a pyrokinesis ability. She can manipulate fire.”

Jake snorted. “Talk about a talent that’d give a firefighter fits.”

“It really does.”

Carson looked between Holt and Yukio. “You read Mom’s books?”

“Sure, they’re really good.” Yukio grinned. “I read them even before I knew the author was your mom.”

“I’ve got ’em all, too,” Holt said. “She writes a great story.” So much of her personality and beliefs—and humor—went into the stories, how could he not enjoy them?

“I wish my mom would cook instead of throwing shit when she’s mad.” Brandon grabbed three more cookies and settled onto the floor. “Wish we’d had these cookies yesterday.”

Carson didn’t say a word.

Holt eyed Carson. “I hope Brandon’s mom was in a good mood yesterday. What’d you guys end up doing?”

“Not much.” Carson’s shoulders hunched, and he turned away from Holt.

Before Holt could say anything, Brandon spoke up, “Just video games…at my place. It was quiet.”

The older teens trotted in then with more soda, more chips and dip, and whoops of joy when they saw the container of chicken wings.

“All right.” Wedge made a beeline for the wings. “Josie makes the best food.”

“How do you know? I thought she just moved here,” Holt took a wing, sampled, and had to agree. Perfectly seasoned.

“She ‘n’ Cars have been coming to see Mrs. Avery, like, for years.” Duke grabbed a couple of wings.

Carson grinned. “Cuz Oma said the guys helped out—like taking the garbage cans to the curb—Mom started making cookies and stuff for them. Like for thanks.”

“Yeah, Josie’s cool,” Wedge said. “Even about our music, you know?”

Duke snorted. “Mostly. She has a thing about women being called hoes and bitches.”

“Does she?” Obviously, Josie not only fed the boys, but listened to them as well. Holt smiled and took another wing. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised in the least.

Carson dropped down beside Yukio in the pillow pile in front of the couch. “When the game’s over, I’m supposed to bring everybody back over to our place, and if we have any room left, she’ll have nachos, tacos, and burritos. We can kick a soccer ball around in the back, too.”

Duke grinned and instructed Holt, “Never turn down her food, man. It’s dope.”

“All right then.” Holt smiled and wondered if she knew exactly who she’d invited over.

*

Twilight had set in by the time everyone trooped over to Josie’s house, and to Holt’s surprise, Jake and Vance decided to join in.

Holt was pleased with the chance to see her. He didn’t want her to get the chance to solidify her fears about having a relationship with him. Uh-uh. If she didn’t like him, that would be different. There was a fine line between being persistent and stalking. However, Josie was delivering mixed messages, retreating then advancing. He’d have to observe with all senses in case her uncertainty turned toward a definite no.

After cleaning up the living room, Holt, Vance, and Jake headed for Josie’s house. The older teens had halted in the front yard, texting for permission to eat at Carson’s.

Holt, followed by Jake and Vance, stopped in Josie’s living room to admire the holiday decorations. In the front corner, the six-foot Christmas tree was covered in blue and gold lights and science fiction/fantasy ornaments. A tiny black dragon had a Rudolph-red nose. A hobbit-hole was circled with tiny lights. Darth Vader wore a Santa hat…as did the Predator. Holt snorted. Now, that was just wrong.

As Holt entered the kitchen, Carson, Brandon, and Yukio were already there, chattering away to Josie.

“Carson,” she asked. “Food will be ready soon. How many will be here?”

“Me ‘n’ Brandon ‘n’ Yukio,” Carson reported.

“And Duke and Wedge,” added Brandon.

Yukio nabbed a black olive and popped it into his mouth. “The vet and the Fed and the firefighter, too. They said they know you.”

“The…firefighter?” Josie turned.

And there—that was delight in her eyes, in her expression, in her posture. The worried expression took a good ten seconds to appear.

“Josie.” Vance moved forward as the three boys grabbed soccer balls and went out the back door. “Carson invited us over, but if this is an awkward time, we can take a rain check. I know you’ve been smothered in names the past couple of weeks. I’m Vance Buchanan, married to Sally.”